A Violet Sky
by B. M. Reed
Summary: Nakatsu is starting a new life in New York City as a Japanese teacher at Columbia University, however he's still stuck in the past and unable to embrace the future. We're rooting for you, Nakatsu! Told in first person, Nakatsu and Mizuki eventual pairing.
1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hana Kimi. These characters are simply being used for my pleasure. ;)

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

The gritty streets of New York contrasted strongly to the brightly colored photos on the internet.

Everything about this place was ugly: The smell of car exhaust wafted through every street, the sounds of people endlessly shouting at each other, building after building standing self-importantly next to one another; these visuals are now permanently implanted into my mind, yet somehow they all blurred together then. I did not want to be here. And the fact that I was somehow put a fog in my mind I couldn't shake out. An overload of imagery passed by from the inside of the yellow taxi, cigarette burns staining the back seat. My heart was thumping wildly in my chest.

The man driving me was not even an American; I couldn't understand hardly any English anyway and I especially couldn't understand him. He was yelling into his Blue Tooth and I was staring out the window, too numbed to truly see what I was passing by.

I didn't actually know where I was going. My new job mailed me a stack of documents with my new address, and I gave it to the taxi driver to take me there. Thinking about it, it's really quite a simple process, but at the airport it was such a hassle to figure out. I have never been so alienated before. They told me lots of Japanese live in New York, and I would have no trouble meeting people here. I assumed I could walk up to people and ask them questions in my heavily broken English and they would be able to help me. But all I was met with were awkward looks as they struggled to understand what I was trying to say. Many people just kept walking by. I guess I don't blame them, though. Eventually I found my way to a taxi, handed my paper over, and here I am.

My heart was still beating fast. I closed my eyes and attempted the breathing exercises I learned a few years back. In, out, one. In, out, two. After what felt like an hour, the taxi driver abruptly stopped and turned around and said something intelligible. He held out his hand and I realized I was at my destination and he expected money. I fumbled around for my new American money, hands shaking and sweaty. I didn't know how much to give him so I gave him a bunch of it and waited for change. Once I got it I managed to say, "Thank you," before getting out and grabbing my luggage from the trunk.

The taxi had stopped in front of a series of buildings with no space in between them. But looking around, I realized the entire street was that way. I had never felt so overwhelmed by anything before. It was like a concrete forest, and all the people running around were like ants. Working, working. There was seemingly no end to it. Do people go mad living here?

I dug into the pocket of my jeans for my new apartment keys they mailed to me the week before. When I finally found them, I figured out which one was used to open the front door and went inside.

I don't know what I was expecting, but I found myself inside a dimly lit foyer area with stairs, a beat up leather chair and mailboxes lining the walls. I could hear the buzzing of the florescent lights above my head as I made my way up the stairs to find apartment number 16. From what they told me it was already furnished and had a phone, and I was to call them as soon as I arrived. After getting up to the second floor, I saw the numbers on the doors and found my way to 16. Easy enough. After unlocking the door and stepping inside I was greeted by a small but not terrible apartment. It was very plain, the living room and kitchen were connected, and had a separated bedroom and small bathroom. I mused that it could be a lot worse, but it smelled rather musty.

I sat down on the worn blue sofa to really take in what I was looking at. Even inside the apartment I could hear people yelling, cars honking, sirens wailing, bikes jingling. I stood up to look out the window and noticed there were bars on them. Weird. I walked to the bedroom, taking note that the floor creaked with every step I took. It was clean and simple, a large enough bed, dresser, end table, and desk. The bathroom was tiny, with a shower, toilet and sink. The mirror was cracked, I took a look at myself and noticed how tired I looked. I could barely sleep on the 14 hour flight, the dry air and vibration of the floor was too distracting for sleep.

I decided it was time to call the number they gave me. Opening my smaller suitcase I grabbed the folder with all the information about my new life, and pulled the page with the number on it out. I found the phone on the counter next to the refrigerator, picked it up and dialed the number exactly as it was written, baffled at the way the Americans arrange their telephone numbers.

After a couple rings, a male voice sounded into my ear saying something I didn't quite understand, but in what sounded like a Japanese accent. I didn't really feel like trying to speak English to him, especially over the phone, so I decided to try to speak Japanese to him in hopes he would understand me.

"Hi, this is Nakatsu Shuichi, the new Japanese professor at the university. I was told to call and check in as soon as I arrived at my apartment," I rattled out. The words sounded so foreign to me as I said them. I tried not to think too hard about how I came to this, and not everything else I actually wanted.

"Wait, Nakatsu? Seriously?" I heard in reply. The voice was familiar but I couldn't quite place it.

"Uh, yeah. Wait, who is this?" I asked.

"Nakatsu! It's me! It's Oscaaaaaaaaar!"

My heart jumped at the familiar name. I couldn't even believe what I was hearing.

"Oscar? Masao? For real? Wh-what are you doing in America? Why did they have me call you? Do you work at the college? I'm seriously so confused," I exclaimed, actually smiling for the first time in two days.

"Yeah buddy! I am one of the drama teachers here. 'Theater Production', to be exact. You're the new Japanese teacher they hired? Woah," he said. "This is unbelievable! Super amazing! This is super! Ahhh, oh my God!"

I was laughing by now. To come to this enormous, dense, disgusting city, and yet have someone here I knew filled me with a tiny ray of hope.

"This is really a good surprise," I replied, smiling into the phone. I ran my hand through my hair, leaning against the refrigerator, feeling the cold on my cheek. "I'm really happy."

"Me too! Me too! We must meet up. Where are you living? Have you had a good look at the city yet? _So_ awesome, right?"

"Uh...yeah, awesome," I said, not sure if he was kidding or not. "I live on 58th Street, I guess," I said. "I don't really understand how these streets work. Everything is so...big," I finished lamely.

"Yeah, when I first moved here I was like..._woah_," he said, laughing. "Definitely a switch from Osaka, eh? I live on 79th, not too far from you. Give me your address and I'll make my way there."

I gave him the address, and we got off the phone. Setting the receiver in its place, I walked back to the window and stared out of it, taking it all in. It was a cold, cloudy day; it promised rain at some point. Now that I was here I didn't know what to do but to wait. I decided to unpack, realizing I had fit everything I wanted to bring to my new life into two suitcases. Everything else I told my mother to trash or sell. None of it really mattered now.

I dragged the suitcases into the bedroom and opened the closet to find an assorted collection of wire hangers, bent and sagging from use. I started to hang up my clothes; soccer jerseys and polos, jeans and track suits. I was probably going to need to buy clothes for my new job. I shook my head. Too much had changed. I had spent my entire life in Osaka; even after high school I lived from home when I attended uni. I tried so hard to make it into the Japan Soccer League. After tearing both ACLs at once, any chance I had at an athletic career was gone.

I sighed and continued putting clothes away until I found the manilla folder I had packed. I opened it up slowly. I smiled sadly at the photos and newspaper clippings. The picture of me and my childhood dog, Aiko. Another of my first year class at Osaka Gakuen. A newspaper clipping from Osaka Sports showcasing my first big contribution to the soccer team resulting in a huge win. I stopped at the next one, a photo of me and Mizuki Ashiya, whom I had lost contact with shortly after I started at Osaka University. Her smiling face beaming up at me from the glossy photo made my heart hurt. I often wondered about her, even though I knew it was stupid. But she had stopped replying to my letters, and I had nothing but soccer on my mind, up until I got injured. After not hearing from her for over six months I called Sano up, only to find that she had stopped talking to him, too.

Looking back on it, I could have tried harder to keep in contact. I could have written more letters. In high school, I really did love her. But the memory of my love was all I had. It almost didn't even feel real anymore. I mean, I thought she was a guy for almost the entire time she went to school with us. I chased her so willingly, so openly. Maybe she went home and realized she wanted to forget about it all. But her letters sounded so bright, so cheery, so..._her_. So full of hope. Then they just stopped. And I gave up, making myself believe it was for the best.

I kept flipping through the stack. The photo spread in An An, more Osaka Sports, the class photo with Mizuki in it, and finally, all of Mizuki's letters to me, every single one. I kept them all. I don't know why. I guess I'm sentimental. I don't know. It's all so stupid. It's been over seven years since I last saw her, since high school itself. Almost all the people I knew there stopped talking to me not too long after graduation. Everyone moved on to their futures. I don't know why I hold onto memories of high school like this. When I think of Osaka Gakuen, I think of Mizuki, and how she helped me realize who I really was. Now I don't even know her anymore and I'm in New York City and I'm about to teach a bunch of Americans how to speak Japanese, and I don't even know how to ask anybody anything remotely useful in English.

I put the folder along with everything in it in the bottom drawer of my dresser. Out of sight, out of mind, right? I continued unpacking, but I didn't really bring too much aside from clothes and shoes.

I grabbed my bag of toiletries and went into the tiny bathroom, and started to put everything away. Right outside the bathroom door was a small coat closet with a broom and a small tub of what looked like cleaning supplies. I went to the kitchen area and turned on the sink. Water gushed out of the faucet. I turned it off and closed my eyes, turning my head up toward the ceiling.

Life is so strange. You can only plan for so much, but you can't plan for your plans failing. I contemplated this and opened the refrigerator, not at all surprised to see that it was completely empty. I'd have to ask Oscar to show me around a little, maybe they had an Asian food market somewhere around here.

I heard a loud knock on the door. My stomach lurched and I suddenly felt nervous, realizing I hadn't seen this guy in at least five years. My palms instantly began to sweat, a bad habit I picked up after my injury. I took a deep breath and went for the door and opened it.

I was instantly greeted by a suffocating hug. "Nakatsuuuuuuuuu!" Oscar yelled, making my ears ring.

"Oscar, uh, hey," I said, fearing the safety of my ribs. He finally let go, took a step back and smiled brightly at me.

Pretty much everything about him looked the same as I could remember, except he was sporting a goatee and mustache combo. I decided that he had changed a bit. He looked older, but still exuberated that air of confidence he always had. He was dressed in a peach blazer and black tie, white pants and boat shoes. I was trying to figure out what fashion magazine he was attempting to copy when he said, "So, you really haven't changed at all!"

"Well...I suppose not," I said, trying to hold back a laugh. "You've changed a bit. Nice outfit."

"Thank you! I am always _très couture_," he replied. He looked around the room. "Pretty nice place they gave you, what's up with that?"

I shrugged. "I really don't know. I don't really understand how any of this works. Or how I'll survive knowing next to no English," I added. "How did you learn?"

Oscar let out a loud laugh. "Nakatsu, you can't worry so much. Seriously! You'll catch on quick. Trust me. It's all you'll be hearing from now on. And there's plenty of Japanese here, I'll introduce you. Actually, I am going out tonight and you're coming, 'kay?"

"Going out? Where?"

"To a bar! Duh! It turns out Americans like karaoke too," Oscar said, laughing. "Man! It's been such a long time. What have you been up to? What brought you here, to teach at the prestigious Columbia University? Whatever happened to soccer? I always thought I'd see you on TV at the World Cup."

He was trying to be nice, but it didn't change the fact that I was reminded once again as to why I was here and not still in Japan. I looked down at the floor, then back up at him, who was clearly still expecting me to answer his stream of questions.

"Well, you know, it just didn't work out," I said quietly. "I decided to be a teacher instead, although I didn't really anticipate coming to America to do it."

"Hey hey! I didn't even wanna be a teacher!" Oscar replied. "I came to New York to be on Broadway. But they just aren't having me yet! No worries, soon, soon!" He gave me a dramatic wink. "Are you hungry? I'm starved. There's a sushi place real close. I can give you all the details I'm supposed to for your new job."

I was hungry. I actually felt semi-human again for the first time since I left Osaka. I smiled a genuine smile and nodded. "Yeah, that sounds great."

Maybe New York City wouldn't be so bad after all.

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><p><em>Reviews are appreciated. Let me know how I'm doing!<em>


	2. Chapter Two

****Disclaimer: ****I do not own Hana Kimi. These characters are simply being used for my pleasure. ;)

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

A full belly, to me, equated a level of happiness that many things couldn't offer.

Sitting back in the hard wooden chair, I watched with slight amusement as Oscar shoved piece after piece of sushi in his mouth, until finally, he took a swig of sake and folded his hands together.

"Wasn't this place a great idea?" He asked me.

I considered his question and looked around. Yes, it was a good idea, I mused, taking in the scent of fresh fish and seaweed and listening to the sushi chefs at the assembly line joke to one another in Japanese. It was nice to be in a place a little closer to home than outside, in a taxi or up in my apartment, where everything was so American.

Not that this place wasn't American, of course. The sushi was delicious, but not entirely native. I supposed that Americans didn't step too far outside of their comfort zones. Even foreign flavors had to have some semblance of their culture.

I then realized that Oscar was waiting for me to answer his question. I smiled and nodded.

"Yes, this is a nice place," I replied.

Oscar gave me a weird look.

"Y'know, Nakatsu, you're really different than I remember," he said, taking another sip of his sake. He had demanded to the waitress, who introduced herself as Hideko, to bring the best bottle of sake the place had. I must admit that his light and playful personality was exactly what I needed; the idea of living here wasn't quite as heavy on my shoulders anymore. Although living alone still frightened me, I told myself I would get over that.

"How's that?" I asked, also drinking some sake. Its crispness was refreshing.

"Well, you just aren't...as noisy as I remember, I guess," he replied. "You just seem, you know, not as happy."

Was I that obvious? I found myself focusing on an American couple at the table behind Oscar. I was surprised to see they were utilizing chopsticks, although the woman kept losing her piece of sushi and giggling. The man was trying to show her how to properly hold them; he was talking quietly to her and she was blushing. I quickly looked away, back to Oscar. I felt like I had intruded upon something precious, something not to be shared.

Oscar was staring at me again. I raised my glass up for a toast.

"Oscar, I'm very happy to be in this place, at this moment, with you."

Oscar obliged the toast, looking at me skeptically, but then laughed.

"Nakatsu, you never did cease to surprise me."

We both took a drink.

"Well, I need to tell you about your job," Oscar began. "Let me pull up the e-mail."

He pulled out his BlackBerry and started pushing buttons.

"Okay. Pretty much from the packet you received before you came here, you have a good idea of what your job consists of and scheduling and stuff for the most part."

I nodded. "Yeah, I mean I know I'll be an advanced Japanese teacher there, and I don't have to speak any English in class." I laughed. "Which is good because I know basically no English."

"It's okay, I promise you'll catch on. But for the time being I can be your translator if you need me...like, to talk to the boss." He put a dramatic emphasis on the word 'boss'. I smiled. "Or anyone else for that matter. But since you're replacing someone, they need you to start pretty much immediately instead of waiting until next semester."

"Yeah."

"The e-mail says you need to be there 12 November at 6 AM," he said. "That's in a couple days. And also you'll report to Yoshida Hotaru. She's one of the other Japanese teachers there. She's supposed to have all the information for you as far as the syllabus goes. She's actually from Akaiwa, Okayama."

"Well, that's cool," I replied. "Where is this Yoshida located?"

"She's in Hamilton Hall, but I'll have to show you all that when you go in," Oscar answered. He finished his glass of sake and turned it upside down.

I did the same. The bottle of sake was only halfway gone, but I could feel the alcohol coursing through my body. I felt very at ease with the world.

Oscar motioned to our waitress. She appeared at the table, smiling widely.

"I see you two are about done?" It wasn't really a question, but we nodded in politeness.

"It was so good," Oscar said, winking at her. She blushed and took away our plates. Oscar gestured at the bottle of sake.

"We can have this wrapped, and you can have the rest," he said to me.

"You don't want it?" I wasn't necessarily one to refuse alcohol, but I didn't want to imagine how expensive the bottle was.

Oscar shook his head in his dramatic fashion. "No, no. Your apartment is too close, and we don't want it to get warm."

Before I could thank him the waitress showed up, placing the check down on the table.

"Thank you very much for dining with us," she said sincerely.

"It was nothing! We'll come again! Ah – before you go, please wrap this bottle for us," Oscar said to her, gesturing at the sake.

She obliged and disappeared again. I went to reach for the check, but Oscar beat me to it.

"Oh no! We don't want you to have a heart attack your first day in New York!" Oscar said. I gave him a confused look, but said nothing. He put down an American bill with a fancy '100' on it and winked.

"You'll soon figure out the value of American money, and the price tags associated with it."

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><p>Several hours later, I was stumbling back into my apartment with a giggling American girl leaning against me. I couldn't remember her name, but it didn't really matter. She spoke no Japanese and didn't seem to care we couldn't communicate with words.<p>

After our dinner at the sushi place, Oscar dragged me to a karaoke bar right around the corner. A group of his friends were already there, a mixed group of Americans and Japanese, and I immediately felt uncomfortable and isolated. I spent the first half of my time there ordering drink after drink until I felt comfortably smashed into oblivion. Oscar's friends were very interested in the fact that we knew each other in high school and kept trying to ask me questions, but I found myself unable to really keep a conversation going. I felt completely out of place, but I found it amusing when Oscar sang American pop for the whole bar.

About an hour before closing time the red-headed American girl caught my eye and slid next to me in the booth. She was talking to me but I couldn't make hardly any of it out, and managed to tell her I didn't have much English. She didn't seem to care. I was drunk enough to stare relentlessly at her chest until she smiled and put her hand firmly on my groin.

I closed the door behind me and was thinking we needed more alcohol. I retrieved the half-empty sake bottle and silently thanked Oscar for giving it to me. I realized I didn't have any cups so I unceremoniously drank right out of the bottle, and turned around to offer some to the girl, when I realized she wasn't behind me anymore, nor in the living room.

I found her naked on my bed, her clothes sprawled all over the floor. She smiled at me and patted next to her, signaling me to come over there. I felt no emotions, only the urge to do what she so obviously wanted. She was in perfect shape and completely responsive to my touch. She drew my shirt up as if to take it off and I complied. She ran her hands through my hair and across my back. Everything was blurry and happening so slowly, yet quickly at the same time. Before I knew what was even happening I was inside her, and she was touching herself, and all I could think about was how good it felt, and I couldn't understand how two people can do these things without speaking a word to each other, and I wanted it to keep going forever and ever, but I was getting close.

When she cried out in climax, I couldn't hold on any longer and I came too, but Mizuki Ashiya's face was all that was in my mind.

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><p><em>I'm sorry for the long break between these chapters. I had to go back to basic training and you obviously don't get internet there. However I'm back for good. <em>

_Reviews are appreciated. Let me know how I'm doing!_


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